Time Stopped (but the seasons kept changing)
by Chrys-DASL
Summary: Fern hates public speaking, especially when she has to read her school assignments to her peers. But this assembly is different because her work could have unintended consequences...and because it keeps happening. Every day is a new day but the scenario is the same. Fern is stuck in a time loop and she has no idea how to escape.
1. Chapter 1

TIME STOPPED

 _but the seasons kept changing…_

Life in a time loop can be freeing when you discover it, but what would ever happen if it stopped?

CHAPTER ONE

Fern looked up to Elwood City High with contempt. It was a frigid day, far too cold for people to actually be going to school and work like normal, yet here she was, walking to school in what felt like ten layers. She had no choice today, her mother said, because today was the day she was going to read her winning poem in front of the entire school. She'd written it for a contest (because she had to for her English class), and now she'd won and had to read it for the entire school in order to claim her "prize," a commemorative placard and a pat on the back from the district's superintendent.

Fern sighed as she stepped inside and made her way to her locker. She'd have to leave some of her layers behind, but the chill of the morning was still on her. She couldn't really carry all of these clothes around with her, but she was tempted. Maybe if she wasn't wearing proper attire, they wouldn't allow her to read her poem onstage.

Fern grabbed her math workbook and shoved her coat into her locker. Then she made her way to class, where Muffy had already taken over a corner of the room to discuss the latest issue, fashion for winter. According to Muffy, they were all doing it wrong. They shouldn't go for comfort but for style, and all these mismatched clothes were making the entire school look bad. It was no secret that today was the big day for the contest winners, and she'd gotten wind of another rumor that went along with that news, that a photographer or local news crew would be there to document the entire thing.

Muffy was frustrated because that meant Elwood City High would look like the least fashionable school ever, but Fern was petrified. Would there really be a news crew there? Would she have to read for the entire city by proxy? She hadn't signed up for that, and she found herself resenting the school's English department for demanding that each student write an entry for the contest some three months ago, when things were sunny and bright and Fern didn't have to read one of her carefully-written poems in front of what felt like the entire world.

"Fern, darling, please, of all people I thought you would've at least tried today!" Muffy declared, looking the girl over. Fern looked through her and continued walking to her seat. Muffy huffed, "You really should listen to me. You're the one whose reputation is on the line if you look bad. High school means everything to college recruiters, and any media coverage of this event will last far longer than you think. Better yet, you could even get a job now if the right member of the community hears about your ability—"

"They've already heard if they know anything about the youth of Elwood City," Brain said flatly, looking up from what everyone knew was an idea book for his science projects. He was sick of listening to Muffy's harping, and he wasn't afraid to let her know, "Why don't you just let people do whatever they're going to do and just accept the fact that no one really cares except you."

"Fashion means far more than you'll ever know. You go by brains, so you might not get to see that aspect of society, but the right clothes say everything about everyone, including you. You've looked like a nerd from day one," Muffy spat.

Brain shrugged, "You've looked like a bitch, but you don't hear me standing on my soap box letting the whole world know you're selfish and can't accept the flaws that every human being has. In fact, that's yours. You're too busy running your mouth to hear what people really say about you, and they say you're annoying, that you should shut up, and that you should mind your own damn business."

The class had gone quiet when Brain spoke the first time, but now that he was letting into Muffy with the fury of a hurricane, the expected Ooh's and Ah's filled the air. The teacher, who had walked in at the beginning of his tirade, heard every word as well. It was well known that she couldn't stand Muffy because she was always wrong but argued her point anyway, so instead of chastising Brain for foul language in the classroom, she went to the board to write down the morning warm-up problems.

Muffy was offended, but she knew to sit down and stop pushing the issue. She took her seat along with the late crew as the bell rang overhead. Fern exhaled heavily and eyed the morning's problems. It would be easier to focus now that Brain had alleviated her biggest problem in her math class. Muffy probably wouldn't speak to anyone for quite a while, but Fern knew not to get her hopes up. Her other problem was still waiting, and after the morning announcements, she knew she only had a little less than two hours until the reading would take place.

Fern wasn't necessarily worried about the content of her poem. While some students expressed that they would be overly embarrassed to read their entries in front of the entire school, it wasn't any personal issue that kept Fern from wanting to read the poem. It was the issues hidden inside, the problems her school faced without realizing it. Muffy's constant begging for people to wear better clothes was only one problem. There was a class difference that was driving everyone apart, particularly people who weren't like Muffy. The most obvious example was that Muffy and Francine weren't even remotely friends. In fact, they seemed to be mortal enemies for most people watching. Fern knew they were former friends torn apart by the school's secret rule that people without didn't mingle with people with, whether it was hot threads or good grades. Intellectuals stuck with intellectuals. Fashionistas stuck with fashionistas. There was no mix, and it ruined relationships that had been in place since grade school.

The poem discussed this issue, but the examples within called out specific people that had taken this phenomenon too far, including Muffy. There were a handful of others too that wouldn't be happy about being included in the poem, even if no one was mentioned by name. But it wouldn't take people long to figure out who the poem was really about, especially for those who knew the people personally.

Fern was most worried about the one friend she really had, Jenna Morgan. Fern and Jenna came together when no one would accept either of them full time—Fern wasn't really that smart compared to the other intellectuals in the school system, and Jenna wasn't pretty, smart, rich, or funny. They came together because they were ordinary, but Fern's poem made it seem like she wanted something more. She did, but not because she didn't like Jenna. But Jenna was sensitive, and Fern knew it could upset her.

As Fern finished her warm-up problems and checked her answers, she realized she could've at least told Jenna beforehand that she was included in the poem to see what she thought. Fern couldn't edit it, and the only reason she wrote on the topic was because of the position she was put in during her English class. She knew the circumstances and wished she could include them in her reading, but she knew she'd have no chance to give her side or edit the work. She was going to be thrown onstage and asked to read her poem for the entire student body, all while the poem's words appeared behind her.

That was another rumor, but Fern remembered it from the previous year's contest. The winning entry, a short story, was projected behind the student while he read. There were no pictures, not even for the yearbook, and even some of the school's administrators missed the event. Something had changed since then, and now everyone would be there.

The day's math lesson began, but Fern's stomach was in a knot. Now that it was nearing time to read, she couldn't think straight. Her mind was on the poem and the consequences. None of the consequences were positive. There were no book deals, talk show appearances, jobs, or college admission agents. It was just Fern versus all of Elwood City High, and she knew this was going to be very difficult to overcome. She could feel people turning on her already even though they hadn't even heard the words.

Fern stepped into her house and felt the warmth surround her from the gas fireplace. She warmed herself before removing her clothes, and her mother found her standing in front of the stove with her winter gear on. She smiled sympathetically as she eyed her daughter. She knew what the day meant, and she knew Fern was probably facing some difficulties.

"So, how did it go?" Doria asked. Fern shook her head as she removed her scarf and top coat. Doria sighed, "Well, what happened?"

"Everyone was there, everyone. There were journalists and a television crew. It was just awful, Mom," Fern said, taking off her last coat and sinking onto the couch, "And people hated the poem, they hated it. They know I wrote it in English class because they had to do the same thing, but no one cares. I hate that they made me do this. I'll probably be a laughing stock for weeks, and Jenna won't even speak to me—"

"Jenna won't speak to you? Wow, I had no idea it was this bad. I thought you were afraid of the public speaking," Doria admitted.

Fern shook her head, "No, I knew this would happen. Whenever you do political commentary, people get upset. Jenna is mad because she probably thinks I don't value her friendship, when I do. I just wish we both had more friends. I just wish people could look past stupidity to be friends with whoever they should be friends with instead of people who are carbon copies of themselves."

Doria exhaled as she looked to the gas stove. As she watched the colors dance, she wondered how bad this would end up going for Fern. Doria had no idea this was the real reason for her daughter's nervousness, and while she hadn't been in high school for decades, she was worried about the ramifications, and so was Fern.

Fern woke up the next morning and studied the sunny morning carefully. As she made herself breakfast, she decided to look at the morning news to see how cold it was going to be today.

But the low was sixty degrees. The high was eighty, eighty-five degrees.

Fern eyed the date. It wasn't February anymore. It was May, late May.

Fern tried to think about everything she could've missed between then and now, but she couldn't think of anything but to look at the date again. The year was still the same, which meant this was the future, but Fern had no memory of the previous weeks between the dates.

Instead of asking her mother what was happening, Fern decided to rush to school to see what she could learn there. Maybe this was just a dream anyway, and whenever she normally tried to change locations in a dream, things would go wonky and she'd end up nowhere.

But Fern ended up where she should be. She went to her locker and pulled out her math workbook like always, then she went into her class. It was the same group of students as before, but the only one who would look at her was Brain. He smiled as she sat down, then he passed her a purple notebook. She recognized the notebook as a composition book she'd been saving for a really good writing project.

When she opened the book, she discovered it was filled with random phrases, hearts, and other things that told her one and only thing: Fern was dating Brain.

Fern's mind swam, and Brain noticed her reaction. When he asked what was wrong, she decided to come clean with him. If he was her friend, boyfriend, or anything, he would listen to her. Either way, he was the only one who could help her.

"Brain, when I woke up this morning, it was today. But the last thing I remember was February when I read my poem for the school. I need you to help me know what's going on," Fern said with more seriousness than she'd ever had.

Brain smiled, "You must've had a really deep dream about the day's events. You're reading your poem today. The assembly starts at ten-thirty."

Fern went pale as the bell rang. Whatever she had to say or needed to say could wait. The day was beginning, and all Fern could do was ride this wild ride to the end.

A/N: So, this is my first true fantasy piece for Arthur. I have no idea where it's going or how I'm going to work this, but I'm excited to see where this can go. If you have any ideas or comments, please let me know. I really love hearing good feedback from loyal readers.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Around ten, Fern was called out of class to attend a short rehearsal before the actual talk. This didn't happen the first time she read, if she ever really read in the first place, but she was grateful for this change. It gave her a chance to really look at what she'd written yet again, and she thought it would be a way to gauge the possibilities of how this crowd could react.

But as she looked over the poem they handed her, Fern realized it wasn't the one she'd written. Her first piece was written in English class on a day when society was really bugging her. This poem seemed to be written by another person, a love-sick soul who'd just been accepted by their first crush turned boyfriend, and Fern found her jaw dropping as she looked over the words. The principal immediately grew concerned, but Fern was able to compose herself long enough for the adults to look away. Then she looked over the poem again, reading it word for word.

As she read, the memory came to her of writing the poem in English class. She'd had a major crush for a while, she realized, and she was hoping something would come of it soon. She wrote the poem as a way to release these feelings, not realizing she was about to face another proposition. Later in the day, another student decided to take their own crush into their hands, Alan Powers. And Fern said yes in an attempt to make her own crush jealous enough to act.

Fern's poem wasn't about her boyfriend, Brain. It was about someone else entirely, and Fern had no idea who it was. While she had the memory of composing the work, she had no way of knowing who she really had a crush on.

Her first instinct was to rush off and find her only good friend, Jenna, to see what she had to say, or to run off to her locker to see whose name or initials she wrote in her notes. Fern wanted to be an investigator, but she also had a duty to fulfill. Somehow her lovesick poem was picked above all others, and as the principal went over how the event would play out, several people came into the gym. The first was a journalist and their photographer, a pair Fern recognized to be from the newspaper thanks to another event she'd attended. Them she didn't mind, but the people who came in after her, a television journalist and two guys with cameras, shook her to her core. Just like her "first reading," the news would be covering the event.

"Alright, the event starts in ten minutes. I want all of you backstage because we're about to call the freshmen in. Don't worry, everyone, this is sure to go over like clockwork," the principal smiled, winking before rushing back into the school. Fern followed the others backstage, where she was showed a seat next to the wall. The other school officials mingled nearby but out of earshot, and Fern wondered if she could get away with a quick trip to her locker. Finding Jenna was out of the question if the school was about to move everyone into the auditorium. She needed another way out, but she didn't know if she could manage it.

The crowd noise from the auditorium told her there was no time. The noise level only grew louder and louder as the last remaining minutes ticked by slower and slower. Just when Fern thought it couldn't get any louder, the room fell quiet. As the principal took to the stage, the other officials took designated spots on the stage. Fern watched from her seat as they all sat at attention in their seats. Fern gulped. It was almost time.

Fern could feel this reading had gone much better as she returned to her sanctuary backstage. She received no dirty looks and the clapping when she was finished sounded genuine. As she and the rest of the student body returned to class, she felt the event could be pushed from her memory when it came to consequences, but Fern knew the reading held a secret. Who was her poem written for if she hadn't written it about Brain?

Before her next class, Fern visited her locker and dug around for any loose papers, notebooks, or anything else that could contain any clues. As she touched underneath her history textbook, she felt a photograph. She picked it up and studied it before hurling it to the back of her locker and slamming the door shut.

Fern's breath barely came to her as the moment registered for her. The photograph at the bottom of her locker was of Jenna. It was a yearbook picture from the previous year, a picture she'd given Fern for a scrapbook, or so she thought. Seeing the photograph, which was now in a red paper frame with hearts, gave Fern a different memory. Yes, she had asked for the photo for a scrapbook, but in this reality, it was because she had a crush on the girl.

 _The poem was written for Jenna._

The realization jarred Fern, but she had to keep going. She moved into her next class and was alarmed to see Jenna sitting next to what she felt was her spot. Jenna smiled when Fern arrived and put her hand on Fern's…

"I'm so glad you got to read that poem. It was beautiful," Jenna smiled, moving her hand away so she could pull out a pen for class.

The realization hit Fern like a ton of bricks. She was in a relationship with Jenna as well as Brain.

The stress was too much. Fern excused herself from class to go to the restroom, but she really went to the nurse's office. The woman on duty took one look at her and agreed to call her mother.

Doria looked at Fern with a sympathetic smile. She knew the day would be eventful for her daughter, but she never expected her daughter to call home within an hour of the assembly ill as a dog. Fern looked pale and distant, and Doria needed to know what had happened.

"Look, I know you've been keeping things from me, but I need to know why reading your poem was so stressful for you. Do you mind discussing it with me?" Doria asked.

Fern hesitated before responding. She told her mother everything, so hearing that she could've been hiding something made her worry. Fern decided the best way to get any real answers was to say it all, "I'm in a relationship with a guy and a girl. I thought at first that I was with him to make her jealous, but now I think I'm with both of them because I want to be, and I'm just so confused!"

Doria gripped the steering wheel as she stopped in thick lunch traffic downtown. She swallowed and smiled, "Well, you've told me for months that you had some decisions to make. I don't know how society is to know if you can really keep both relationships without hurting someone or yourself, but I can honestly say that you should do whatever makes you happy and worry about the consequences later."

Fern looked out the window as traffic inched forward. What did she want to make her happy? Fern felt like she'd just woke up in this world with a mound of problems on her shoulders, and she was partly right. This didn't feel like that movie Groundhog Day. This felt like she was waking up in a different reality every day, and today's reality had her in a bisexual love triangle that the whole school must have known about.

Once they were home, Fern decided to go online to see if she could find out what people were saying. What she found was an email from Brain written during the lunch hour, and it wasn't pleasant. Apparently everyone didn't know, but hearing her poem made him realize he wasn't the only object of her affection. He wanted answers, and Fern wanted to give them, but she didn't know if she should mess things up or work damage control. Was this even her life anymore?

Brain wanted to talk after school, so Fern decided to wait. She felt lightheaded from the day's events, and she decided the best thing she could do for herself was to take an ibuprofen for her growing headache and try to take a short nap.

Not long after going to sleep, Fern felt herself wake up with a start. Her heart was pounding as she looked around the room. It was the living room still, which was good, but it was extremely hot in the room. Fern looked around and realized the power was out and that her parents were in the room too. Her mother was wearing a bathing suit and her father was shirtless in khaki shorts nearby.

Fern tiptoed into the kitchen and found the daily calendar. She sighed as she studied the date. Instead of May, it was July. Time had jumped again, and Fern could tell this was a different storyline altogether. She was out of school, so if she was reading a poem at an event, it must be a city-wide affair that would bring even more people to the event, and many mort problems.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Fern was still studying the calendar when her mother stepped into the kitchen. Doria smiled as she eyed the date. She looked to her coffee pot and exhaled before moving to the sink. If she wanted coffee, she'd have to make it the old fashioned way, which was more work than she wanted to put in but it had to be done.

"I'll be glad when they're done cleaning up all this storm damage. I don't think I've ever seen summer thunderstorms like that. Don't worry, though. The city will have everything worked out before your recital tonight," Doria smiled, moving to the cabinet to grab herself a mug, "You know, doing it this way, you can make yourself a cup of tea."

"I'm fine," Fern whispered. She was distracted now by the thought of the recital. That meant she was reciting something, but what was she reciting? And exactly how many people were going to be there?

A memory fired into her mind, and Fern realized this was along the same timeline as her brisk February reading. This was the next step somehow, but Fern could feel the separation. She had lost friends and gained enemies because of that poem, yet some local leaders liked it so much that they wanted her to read it for the city, for their group of elite, for anyone who would listen.

Fern exhaled as she brought herself back to this reality. She wondered what exactly had happened since that winter reading and now, but she knew that asking her mother would only bring more questions and possibly a medical exam. Fern knew this was real somehow, and though she did wonder if she was really in a coma somewhere, she knew that no medical exam in this or any reality would be able to determine that. She'd just have to wake up on her own, eventually, and deal with whatever reality was actually her own. They were starting to blend at this point, and Fern wondered what the next sleep would take her to—what time, what place, and what reality, a new one or one she had experienced before?

Doria looked up as her husband entered the kitchen. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he accepted the cup of coffee anyway, "Three days without power is making life quite dull, but at least the coffee is still decent."

"Agreed," Doria nodded, looking to Fern, "You should get dressed and go downtown to make sure the recital is still on. My cellphone died last night, and the landline still isn't working. I think it would be safe enough for you to walk."

"But if you see any down power lines, you should avoid them. Pretend that every wire is a live wire," her father said adamantly.

Fern nodded, "I know what to do. I'll go get dressed now," she whispered, going upstairs and putting on the dress she found on her bed. She normally liked to wear tights or leggings under her dresses, but the summer heat made her want to dance around naked instead. She wore just the dress, and after putting on a healthy amount of deodorant, she grabbed her bag and left the home.

The streets of Elwood City were desolate, and Fern could tell whatever storms had come through were quite violent. A tree in a neighbor's backyard was split in two up the middle, and several cars were plastered with leaves, twigs, and other debris. Water was still ponding in places, and Fern wished she could recall the storms themselves, but no memory came to mind.

As she passed a road she knew to be Jenna's, she heard someone call out. She turned to see the first person she would encounter on her journey. Instead of a kind neighbor, it was a furious Jenna marching up to her.

"Are you going to tell them you won't be reading that poem for God and everybody?" Jenna demanded.

Fern froze. What was she supposed to say in this situation? She had no idea what was really going on beyond the recital and the poem itself. She just knew she was friendless and nothing else.

Jenna shifted, "Why are you looking at me like that? It's like you have no idea what I'm even talking about. You're crazy, do you know that? Completely insane. One day you're writing things that make our friendship worthless, and the next you're pretending it never even happened."

"Because I don't know what happened!" Fern exclaimed. Now Jenna froze, and Fern wondered what she should do next. Her cry came out of frustration and nothing else, but should she really tell Jenna? The girl's confusion gave Fern no choice. She had to be honest, "The last few days have been crazy to me. The first day, I marched through the snow to get to school and read that stupid poem, and the next, it was warm and I was reading a love poem for everyone. Now I'm here, and I have no idea what's going on. I just know that if I knew this was going to happen, I never would've written that poem. I should've never participated in that contest in the first place, and I definitely shouldn't have won."

Jenna shifted, "Now you're just making things up," she murmured. Fern could tell she wasn't sure. She was still sympathetic to her former friend.

Fern sighed, "I wish I was making this up. Yesterday for me, I was in a relationship with two people at the same time. Me, two relationships, and one was with a girl! When would that ever happen?"

"It wouldn't," Jenna said, finally growing defensive, "and you should stop trying to make me feel bad for you. It's pointless for you to even attempt to fix things now. You've messed up everything by letting these people plaster your face all over town. You should've said something from the beginning if you really mean what you just told me."

"What do you mean about them plastering my face all over town?" Fern asked with genuine confusion. But Jenna was done. Fern's story was too much for her, and she marched back down the street. Fern kept walking, but she could hear Jenna slam the door behind her once she got home.

Downtown Elwood City was just as awful as the side streets. Fern found a few boarded up windows on Main Street, as well as a large tree trunk nearby. She could now picture a news story about the incident showing the historic trees breaking in the storm's fierce winds, but otherwise, her mind was at a loss for what really happened that day.

Once she reached City Hall, Fern saw what Jenna was talking about. Posters of Fern were placed on every entrance to advertise the event, a recital of the poem of the year. Fern shook her head as she entered the building. The secretary immediately recognized her and led her into the mayor's office. The recital was still on, and the mayor wanted to see her before the big event.

The mayor was a large, round man that reminded Fern of a well-dressed pumpkin. He shook her hand before shooing away his secretary and returning to his large leather chair behind his big, bulky desk.

"I'm glad you stopped by today. I didn't know if you would remember our appointment or not, but, you're here," the mayor laughed, pulling a folder from his top drawer and sliding it across the table, "This is a formality, really, but I need you to fill out this form. Once it's completed, I can easily get this scholarship for you."

Fern eyed the form. The scholarship's details were listed at the top, and Fern was stunned. The scholarship was for $100,000 per semester, and she could keep whatever money was left over as long as it went for her basic needs. That could be housing, food, or school supplies, and it would be plenty to cover Fern's desire for a new computer and several books.

"This is too much," she heard herself say. She realized it was the truth, and she put the folder back on the desk, "I don't feel comfortable accepting this for a poem I wrote in class for an assignment. It doesn't express my true—"

"If you wrote it, no matter what the situation was, then it's your own work," the mayor said firmly. "Listen, Fern, I know how you feel right now. You're getting recognition for your stance on important social issues, attention you probably didn't ask for, and praise in a way you never have before. You deserve all of it. You wrote this poem, and you should revel in the spotlight."

"But I've lost all my friends!"

"And made many more, many of them named Benjamin," the mayor smiled with a sinister look in his eye. His hand was on the folder, and he carefully slid it back towards Fern, "When you get into the college you want, and when you have no worries about money, you'll easily find new friends, the right friends for you."

Fern was at a loss. The money did sound good, but she didn't want to keep playing by everyone else's rules. She knew that the moment she went to sleep, she'd be back on this same day. The date itself would be different, but she'd be doing the same thing over again. That gave her some freedom, and she decided to use it.

"I already had the right friends. I don't want your money, and I won't be reading that poem for anyone. I take it back. The work isn't mine. I stole it—whatever excuse you want to use, use it. I'm not interested anymore," Fern said, standing to leave.

The mayor stood and grabbed her hand. Fern cried out in pain, but the mayor only kept gripping, "No, you won't leave, and you'll take the credit you deserve! You've brought me plenty, and you'll bring me more if you just play along."

Fern saw a stapler nearby. She grabbed it and slammed it down on the mayor's wrist as hard as she could. He screamed and released her. Fern took her chance and ran out the door, and she kept running.

When she reached Jenna's street, she went to her house and knocked on the door. Her father answered, and Jenna refused to come to the door. Fern didn't mind leaving the message with her father—she was done with the poem, and she wasn't going to participate any longer.

Jenna didn't react right away, so Fern went home. Her mother was there standing in front of a vent. The power was back on, and cool air conditioning flooded out. The smell of coffee filled the air, and the moment really felt like home. She hated to ruin it, but her mother needed to know.

"Mom, I won't be going to the recital. The mayor was just using me, and I never meant anything I wrote. I can't stand for something I don't believe in, especially when it seems to have hurt so many people," Fern said.

Doria smiled, "I knew you could do it. You told me you were having second thoughts over the last few weeks of school, and I knew you would do something with those second thoughts. I'm proud of you, I really am," she said, looking up, "Honey, what's wrong with your hand?"

Fern looked down. Her hand was resting funny, and it was the one the mayor had grabbed. Realizing she was injured helped Fern feel the pain, and she was immediately angry. The mayor had done something to her, and she didn't want to stand by and let it happy. When they got to the ER, Fern told them exactly what happened. An officer was sent into her room to see if she wanted to file charges. She did.

Fern ran her finger over the cast on her other arm. Her wrist was badly broken in two places, but they were hoping her youth would help heal the wound. They sent her home with medication and a referral to a hand specialist in Metropolis. Now she was in bed, ready to sleep but unwilling. Would her hand injury follow her? Would it be a different day? Would the time loop end here and leave her to deal with the corrupt mayor and her charges against him?

Listing her problems calmed her mind somehow, and despite fighting, she felt herself slip into a black sleep.

When she woke up, it was to her alarm clock. Her cast was gone, but a slight pain was still there. Fern checked the date. It was October now, and next to the calendar was a printout. Fern looked it over and realized it was the same poem. A memory hit her. This time she'd written it at home, and she was about to turn it in for her English class.

Fern balled up the poem and tossed it in the trash.

"Not this time," she muttered, going downstairs to start her day.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Fern's walk to school was pleasant despite the anger seething within her. Now that she saw how this game was being played, she was determined not to be a part of it anymore, at least the "tearing my life apart" aspect of what her poetry could do. She planned to do something she'd never intentionally done before, and that was to not turn in anything at all.

As she looked to the leaves falling from the trees in graceful paths in the cool breeze, the memory of the assignment came to her. They were all asked to write a poem for the contest as homework, and they were all given the topic of social injustice. Fern thought that was well and good considering the subject matter of her poem, but she knew it was too personal of a piece. Not turning in anything would be just as awful, but at least she could maintain her friendships. She could just find another way to deal with Elwood City's problem.

When Fern arrived at school, she found Jenna and Muffy standing near her locker. Fern took no notice of this at first because she thought Muffy was just lecturing Jenna about what she was wearing—a hand-sewn sweater with about ten different colors of yarn mixed in. Jenna had worn the sweater before because it was a gift from a younger cousin and she wanted to be supportive. In the reality Fern was familiar with, Muffy told her it was vomitrocious and that she should burn it within the sights of whoever made it, causing Jenna to burst into tears then and any other moment she thought of the encounter for the next two weeks.

But this wasn't Fern's usual reality, and Muffy's next line shocked her:

"I think you should send you cousin to me. My mother and I have been knitting for a few months now, and we're barely getting the hang of it. It's a small group of people actually, but we host it. You and your cousin should come to see what you can do. I almost made a good pair of socks during the last session, but they were too short and scratchy. I picked the wrong yarn and used the wrong pattern. It was such a disaster!" Muffy laughed.

Jenna laughed with her as Fern looked on with disbelief. This was not the Mary Alice Crosswire she'd grown up with. If the Buster from her reality was here, he'd scream "ALIENS!" and run in the opposite direction. Fern was tempted to take his place as the bell rang, but she studiously moved towards her math class.

"Hey, Fern, where are you going? We have English first," Jenna smiled, pulling Fern towards the second floor. Fern was a little surprised. Not only were people mingling with each other that normally didn't, her schedule was off too.

Then Fern realized something—if it was October, she would be in the next grade. She would be another year older too, which meant this was a completely different ballgame.

 _No wonder things are so different,_ Fern thought, _but I doubt they really changed that much overnight. I made the right decision to ball up that poem. I did. I know it._

As they walked through the door, the English teacher demanded copies of their poems. This was a different English teacher than the first one, but her response was the same as any other teacher when she realized Fern, one of the school's best writers, had no assignment. Her reaction, a stern glare from the front of the room, caught the attention of everyone else, and soon the class was in a frenzy to find out why she of all people wouldn't turn in a poetry assignment about social injustice.

Fern remained defiant. She offered no explanation and attempted to continue on like always, but she could feel the shift. She wasn't responding as she should, and that was going to be the biggest consequence of this reality. She didn't mind considering what she'd already been through in the previous days. Her wrist was still sore from the mayor's disgusting grip, but she knew this place was different. Maybe this was the reality that needed the poem despite how all the others had turned out—maybe inaction would be her downfall here.

The day continued like always, but Fern kept getting questions. At lunch, she was surrounded by the old Lakewood gang, Muffy included, and they all wanted to know why she didn't turn in an assignment. Jenna suggested writer's block, Arthur suggested forgetfulness, and Buster suggested aliens took the real poem and replaced it with something illegible.

Fern wanted to go with that option, not because it made her smile to see the old Buster, but because it was almost less crazy than what was really going on. Her time in other realities was skewing her vision, and she asked the group if she should write a poem now and turn it in. Everyone liked the idea, especially Francine and Brain, so Fern excused herself and got a pass from a vice-principal to go to the library.

As she typed out her poem, she noticed the librarians were in their office with a teacher, her English teacher. A glass wall helped the sound of their voices carry to Fern, who was able to hear every word clearly.

"I was just floored to see that she didn't have an assignment. I thought for sure she'd be the one to put in the winning entry," the teacher sighed.

"She's been distracted lately by a new book series. Maybe she just kept reading and reading until she forgot about the assignment," one librarian suggested.

The second librarian disagreed, "No, no, Fern is studious. Something must be wrong with her if she didn't put in a working assignment. Look, there she is now. Maybe she wrote something she was unsure about and wanted to do better."

"Yes, that's a better option," the first librarian nodded.

"I hope so. If she brings it to me, I'll take it. I normally don't break the rules, but this is Fern Walters we're talking about. She has to weigh in on this topic," the teacher said, grabbing a stack of papers and leaving the library.

As lunch ended, Fern reported to her classroom and handed her a printout. The teacher looked it over as she finished chewing a bite of her salad. Her forehead then scrunched and she looked up to Fern. She swallowed before asking, "Is this how you really feel about your classmates?"

"No," Fern admitted, trying to think of why she didn't change the poem to something bigger, perhaps something on the national scale. There was certainly enough material in the news to use.

The teacher sighed, "I can't take this. I told myself I would, but now I see why you decided not to complete the assignment. If you think your classmates don't mingle between classes and support each other, you must be from a different reality," she said, looking up in shock as Fern's face changed, "Wait, why do you look relieved? I thought I was being spiteful."

"You would be if that weren't the truth," Fern admitted. She pointed to the poem, "This poem has gotten me into more trouble than I know what to do with. Yesterday the mayor broke my wrist because I refused to be his star child and read it for the city. It ruined friendships, and I know it hurt people, but that's where I'm stuck. I can't do something national or international. I have to tell people what I think, and that's what happened that day. I just need to word it better, I guess, but I don't know how to do that, and changing realities every day is a pain."

"If you were anyone else I'd have you sent to the office for mandatory drug testing, but…something inside me is telling me to believe you," the teacher said, handing Fern the poem, "Maybe you should keep fighting for your beliefs by changing the poem and proposing the edited version instead. I don't know how that could help you, but I can see how this isn't helping anyone. I know of several people who'd probably never speak to you again over this, Jenna Morgan being one of them."

"If I'm here tomorrow, I'll give you the edited version. If not, I guess I'll just have to see what tomorrow brings for me elsewhere," Fern shrugged, gathering her things as the bell chimed. She made it to her next class just in time, but she intentionally kept her head down and worked on another project. Her teacher was right. She needed to try something different, and seeing this world before her gave her plenty of ideas. This world was what she wanted her own to look like, and she just needed to paint the picture with her words.

Doria peeked her head in as Fern climbed into bed. Doria smiled to daughter and sat on the edge of her bed. Doria looked around her daughter's room and noticed the pile of balled up notebook paper next to the trash bin.

"I see you've been working on a writing project. Care to share?" Doria asked.

Fern shook her head, "No, I'm tired of thinking about it. I've literally seen it from every direction now, and I just can't make much sense of how to fix it. I'd scrap it, but I have no choice," she said, quickly adding, "It's an assignment for school that my English teacher is letting me play with."

"Well, my suggestion is to stop seeing it from every direction and just pick one. There's only one right way to see things, and you have to pick the one that's right for you," Doria said.

"So, my way is the only right way then? What about other people's perspectives?"

"As long as you can imagine those too in your vision, you'll be fine. Believe me, I do it for a living. I have my own way of seeing a home. I like certain styles, designs, and amenities. But my clients have their own way. As long as I can meld my knowledge with their tastes, I can usually find them the right home. It's sometimes difficult though. That pile of paper signifies my latest case. I've been trying to find the right home for some first-time buyers for about four months now, and they aren't happy with anything."

Fern grinned, "Have you seen things from every different direction yet?"

Doria eyed her daughter carefully, "Yes, I have, and I'm having the same problem. Part of me wants to tell them to just go live under a bridge somewhere, but like your assignment, I have no choice. They do need a place to live, and it's up to me, in their eyes, to find it. One day it's a Colonial, the next a Craftsman. My head is swimming."

"Is every day the same for you just in a different season?" Fern asked in a low, serious voice.

Doria grinned, "Sometimes it does feel that way, but no, not really. Now, I need to get to bed," she said, kissing her daughter's forehead, "Good night, and I'll check in with you about your assignment. You'll do fine, and I'll sell those picky people a house, and everything will turn out okay in the end. You just have to be patient."

Fern nodded and watched her mother leave. As she lay on her side, she wanted to scream to her mother that she'd gotten in right, that she really was giving Fern the best advice in the world. She knew she couldn't tell her mother that without sounding crazy, so she left the subject be.

Fern closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it was February again. But it was the day after her reading, and Fern found herself with several hurtful text messages from Jenna. Fern sighed. It was time to face the consequences of her original timeline, and she hoped an edit or a redaction could fix the damage.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

When Fern entered Elwood City High, she was a woman on a mission. By now she knew that the footage of her reading had taken the town by storm, and while she had some support, she had some things to explain to some of the people she hurt. Though Muffy was the first person she encountered, she wasn't who Fern was aiming for. Fern was looking for Jenna, but the determined Crosswire wouldn't let Fern pass.

"We have to discuss your poem, Fern. Did you know what you read could get you sued? I could have you paying damages to me for the rest of your life!" Muffy hissed.

"If it weren't true then I wouldn't have written it. Now if you'll excuse me," she said, trying to dodge Muffy, but she wouldn't let her by.

"What do you mean it's true? I've been nothing but nice to everyone I've ever met, including you. Yet you've betrayed me with these lies! Everyone knows you were talking about me. Why would I ever put anyone in a corner?"

Fern stared at her, "Well, you're doing it right now, and it's honestly nothing new. You've been encircling people for years to tell them their clothes look like trash and that they should be ashamed to not look like they walked out of a magazine. Don't deny it either because you know it's true. If you'd spend half the time you spend berating people to build people up, you might not have things written about you that you deem hurtful.

"Now get the hell out of my way," Fern demanded, giving Muffy a firm shove. Muffy was too shocked to say anything back. Fern had just given her a dose of the truth, and she wasn't necessarily pleased with it. But she knew she couldn't have this discussion here, not with people pouring into the school to start their day.

Fern peered into the cafeteria but couldn't find Jenna anywhere, so she went upstairs to the balcony entrance for the gym. All the way at the top row on the far side of the room was Jenna, sitting alone as she flipped through a notebook. Fern recognized it as the same one she had used in the other reality to send cutesie notes to Brain, but she didn't remember ever using it in this reality. Had it somehow changed? Fern had to find out. She ran back into the main hallway and darted for the other balcony entrance.

As soon as she opened the door, Jenna looked up. She knew she was trapped now that Fern had found her hiding place, so she waited for Fern to arrive, but she wouldn't let her have the first word.

"I can't believe you wish we weren't friends. We've been building this notebook for years, and it's like it means nothing to you. We were content with not being a part of the crowd. What happened to that?" Jenna demanded.

"It's not what you think," Fern said, looking down to the notebook. It was a scrapbook filled with ticket stubs and photographs, but Fern remembered none of them. Was this reality really the same one as before? She couldn't be sure, but she knew she had to fix things, "I wrote the poem the way I did because I'm sick of us being the underdog just because we're not athletic or dressed like celebrities. I'm tired of us being marginalized because people don't think we matter. Can't you see that?"

Jenna looked up, "It does get annoying when Muffy tells me off all the time because my hat doesn't match my shoes. Did she find you?" Jenna asked meekly. Fern nodded. Jenna sighed, "I knew she would. She was really angry, but making her mad was something I liked. I just wish you didn't have to bring me into it."

"I'd edit it and redact that part, but I need to get the rest of the message out. You're a part of that message, Jenna. Can't you stand by me to see it through?" Fern pleaded.

Jenna looked down to the book. They both looked so happy in the photographs, and the trinkets they had acquired and taped inside looked just as elated. They were best friends for life, through thick and thin, and Jenna knew it was in her best interest to ride this wild ride with Fern.

She looked back up to Fern and smiled, "Let's do this. Where's Muffy at? I want to watch her seethe and boil with anger."

"It is a nice sight for once," Fern agreed. The two girls moved into the cafeteria, where Muffy was trying to rally her friends and allies against Fern and her poem. To Fern's surprise, the media coverage seemed to work to her advantage. Parents of the more privileged children scolded them for being so cruel, and several appeared to be sitting in new areas. The rest were staring at Muffy with bored expressions. They weren't up for her mission, and Fern smiled. Somehow she'd won this battle, but she wondered if she'd win the war.

As Fern's day continued, she realized this was a different timeline. Instead of the year starting over, it was the next, yet the issues were the same. The poem was the same, and even the circumstances were the same. People were sick and tired of people like Muffy telling them how to live their life, and they were even more tired of the social standards binding people to only those like them. Before the day was over, she'd seen people talk and mingle in ways she never had before, and on their walk home, Fern and Jenna discussed the positive changes that they hoped were permanent.

But Fern was worried. As she stood by her fireplace in the living room in an attempt to warm herself more quickly, she wondered if Muffy really would sue her. The consequences of this world didn't seem as dire as the others. In most, she was at risk of losing relationships, possibly more, if people took her actions the wrong way. She'd already had her wrist broken by an adult, a pain that she still couldn't shake despite the difference in timelines. Would something else like that happen? Could it be worse?

Fern's thoughts were interrupted by Doria returning home. She threw off her coats and boots and moved to the couch, where she collapsed and looked up to the ceiling. When she did, she finally took notice of her daughter standing by the fire. Doria sat up straighter and tried to appear less stressed, but Fern had already seen her. She already knew that something was up, and she wondered if her mother was having issues selling a house.

"Oh, there's no use in trying to hide anything from you," Doria grinned as Fern sat next to her. "So, you probably want to know what's bothering me, but I'm sure you already know."

Fern shook her head, "No, I don't. Tell me. I'm a really good listener."

"I know you are, dear," Doria said, sinking further into her seat and looking over the living room, "I just…I don't like worrying you with my work. I want you to think it's effortless, but it's not. I guess I should stop pretending and give you a dose of reality…. Well, here it is: The Crosswire's are getting a divorce, and they're going to have to sell their house in order to please both parties, so both have come to me in an attempt to find new homes, and they're both driving me insane."

"Muffy's parents are getting a divorce?" Fern asked, stunned by the news. She had no idea her parents were having marital problems, but it did explain Muffy's sudden control issues. Her fashionista ways only got bad when she came to high school, which would be three years ago now, plenty of time in Fern's eyes to deal with the problems of your parents in negative ways. When her mother nodded, Fern put the pieces together. Muffy was compensating for her own hurt, and it almost upset Fern to think she was being rather cruel to her in her poem.

"You shouldn't feel sorry for any of them," Doria said, noticing her daughter's facial expression. Doria sighed, "This has been going on for years, but it's her own fault. Millicent is trying to be all high-society, and it's wrecked that family. People have boycotted Ed's business because Millicent would come in sometimes and insult them or try to persuade them into getting the absolute best model, which was out of their price range. Millicent can't be happy with what the average person can afford. She can only be happy with the best, and she thinks that for everyone else. Ed got tired of it, and the wrath he's receiving because of it makes me wonder if he should've stayed with that mad woman."

"And Muffy is just like her mother," Fern murmured.

"How do you mean?"

"She knows part of my poem was about her, and she threatened to sue me this morning. Do you think she could?" Fern asked. To her surprise, her mother laughed and shook her head. Fern interjected, "But she could if her mother helps her."

"I'm sure, but no judge would uphold it. People loved your poem. It brought up this issue from a perspective people often forget about, the perspective of a child who's had to grow up in a world where people aren't treated fairly because of what their parents taught them. You gave the town something to really talk about, so you'll have plenty of support. Just don't worry about anything, and forget everything I told you about the divorce. It's not public knowledge, and I really shouldn't have told you."

"My lips are sealed," Fern said, looking up as her father entered with dinner. Fern ate methodically, taking carefully measured bites. This was her way to make the seconds tick slower. She wanted to stay in this world and see things through, but she knew that the moment her eyes closed for any form of sleep, she'd wake up in a new reality with new rules. She just hoped it was back in spring so the bitter chill of winter couldn't touch her.


End file.
